


Three Things

by commanderlurker (honeybee592)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Cock Rings, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, F/M, Femdom, Orgasm Delay, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 00:47:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13986864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeybee592/pseuds/commanderlurker
Summary: Leo has had a bad day at work, but Maria can make it better. Leo just has to ask.Kinky PWP.





	Three Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChocoChipBiscuit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoChipBiscuit/gifts).



> For ChocoChipBiscuit. This was originally supposed to be for the Chocolate Box 2018 exchange, but I couldn't get it working in time. I put it aside for a while but was determined to make it work for you. So, after a rethink and some research, I tackled it again. I hope you enjoy!

The front door closes with more of a bang than a click. The thump of a bag hitting the floor. When the heavy footsteps reach the living room door, Maria looks up from her book. Leo stomps in, shoulders curled, frown heavy. He doesn’t even make eye contact, just wanders over and beaches himself on the couch, right on top of Maria. She gets the book off her lap before he flops and wraps her arms around him, running one hand over his short buzz.

“Bad day?” she asks.

“Mm hmm.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“Nn mm.”

She can guess what had happened. Leo's boss being an asshole, probably. Nothing new there. There’s something about insecure rich men wanting to pick on people bigger than them, and Leo is a big target. She runs her hand up and down his back. His tee sticks to his skin. Must have been to the gym before he came home. That usually worked. Lift a few weights, picture his boss while punching a bag, do cardio till the lungs give out. So, if that hadn’t worked, then he’d had a real bad day. She knows just what to do, but it has to come from him.

“Have you had dinner?” she asks.

“No.” His reply is muffled against her shoulder.

“Come on,” she says , pushing him up. “Let’s eat. You can help me cook.”

She sets him to work chopping onions and garlic, peppers, broccoli and spring onion, while she slices chicken and seasons it with sesame seeds and lemon pepper. He opens up as they work, smiling at she tells him about her day, laughing at her jokes. He has such a cute smile and the smallest of dimples. They stop talking for the few minutes she’s frying everything, the sizzle too loud to speak over and the hum of the fan drowning out everything else.

He’s quiet while they eat. He’s got his thinking face on. He might be working up to ask her the question, or he might be thinking over his day. The way he keeps glancing over at her makes her think it’s the former, and when his leg leans against hers under the table, she has to suppress her smile.

After dinner, he tells her to sit down, he’s got the cleaning up under control. Maria watches him from the couch. He’s got a tea towel draped over one shoulder as he loads the dishwasher and washes the wok and chopping board. He finishes wiping the benches, then makes tea and brings it over. He sits on the floor, between Marias’ legs, his back to the couch. She rubs his broad shoulders, working the tight muscle. His neck is as tight as anything and he moans as she digs her thumbs in.

He flops his head back, so they’re looking at each other upside down. “Can you make me forget today ever happened?”

There it is. Maria smiles and squeezes Leo's shoulders. She leans down and kisses him, rubs the tip of her nose against his. “Go and get three things.”

The transformation is instant. His sullen expression breaks into a wide smile, eyes bright. He’s on his feet and almost skipping out the door. Maria takes a moment to smile to herself and sips her tea. Whatever he brings through will be indicative of his mood. She takes a few guesses at what he’ll choose. Rope, probably. That always calms both of them. Maybe a candle, maybe a feather if he’s feeling squishy. Nipple clamps if he’s feeling guilty. She doesn’t have a preference. Whatever he needs, she’ll give him, and she’ll love every second of it. So will he.

He sticks his head around the door and holds up two coils of rope. “Does this count as one or two?”

Maria smirks. “What do you think?”

He smirks too--so adorable--and ducks away again. So he’s feeling good enough to push his luck, then? She’ll remember that. He will too.

While Leo is gone, Maria sets the room up. She dims the lights, clears the coffee table, throws a towel over the couch and another on the carpet, just in case. One of her friends once told her that she should get him to do that, that such tasks were his job, but she disagreed. She isn’t a queen to be waited on hand and foot, though she does see the appeal. Leo would do it, too, if she asked. But they’re a team, a duo, and for them, working together always produces better results, so she does her fair share of the work. Once the room is to her liking, she strips down to her underwear, sits back down, and finishes her tea.

Leo comes back a moment later. He’s changed too. Shirtless now, and in a pair of grey sweatpants. Water droplets cling to his hair and torso. Funny, she hadn’t heard the shower running, but that would explain what took him so long. He kneels in front of her and offers his choices. First up is lube and tissues. As staple requirements, they doesn’t count as one of the three. Then he hands her one coil of forest-green rope--the longest they have. The paddle, broad and covered in chocolate brown leather. And the silver cock ring. Huh. She raises her eyebrow as she takes each item. His face goes pink as she looks at him and she can tell he’s trying his hardest not to look away. So, he wants to be tied up, spanked, and edged until he cries. Maria can do that.

“Come here,” she says. Her voice is calm, her smile soft. Leo leans up and Maria cups his face in her hands. They kiss deeply, a long, slow, exploratory kiss. His lips are soft and pliant, his tongue tentative. When she pulls away, he moans. His eyes are closed.

“Stand up,” she says. He does she asks. His crotch is right in front of her. All she has to do is reach out and pull down his sweatpants. He’s half hard already. Men are so easy. She covers the ring in lube, then as gentle she can, she slips it down his cock and settles it snugly at the base. The silver is gorgeous against the tan-gold of his skin. She gives him a few long pulls and once she satisfied the ring is in place, she gives the head of his cock a quick peck--just enough to taste the salt--and pulls his sweatpants back into place. She takes a moment to appreciate the beautiful body before her. Some might call Leo's rigorous adherence to a diet of protein shakes and steamed chicken narcissistic and vain, but they don’t see the heart under this body of a god. Maria sees the kind, caring man, the dedication and love. And she’ll love him when his abs go soft, when his pecs sag, when he goes grey.

“Sit down, face me.” He sits down and crosses his legs. He even puts his hands behind his back. That’s another thing her friend told her: don’t let him call the shots, don’t let him set the scene. You’re in charge, you say what happens. But Maria just smiles as she takes the rope and kneels behind him. He rolls his shoulders, cracks his neck. Maria kisses the tattoo on his shoulder, kisses her way across to the nape of his neck, and then leans forward to press her breasts against his back and kiss his cheek.

She takes her time uncoiling the rope, thinking over the tie she’ll do. Hmm, dragonfly sleeve. Yes, that will look good, really accentuate Leo's muscles. She folds the rope in half, finds the centre point, and gets to work. Tying is a skill she never thought she’d master, and while she doesn’t consider herself an expert yet, she’s proud of how far she’s come. Starting from simple wrap-around knots that were purely functional, she and Leo have spent hours practicing, learning the rope’s personality, its characteristics. Hemp is their favourite. The rough bite counters Maria’s personality, a burn she otherwise wouldn’t want to inflict.

Talk is minimal, just the occasional, “Is this okay?” or, “Is this too tight? Leo's head is lowered. His eyes are probably closed. His chest rises and falls, obvious when his arms are stretched out behind him like this. The knots are fiddly and take all of Maria’s concentration, but she can see the progress, can picture the end result. And when she’s done?

“Leo, you look beautiful.” She puts her hand in his and he squeezes her fingers. “Up on the coffee table,” she says, and helps him keep his balance while he unfolds his legs, kneels on the floor, and rests his chest and head on the coffee table. She angles him more to her liking, widening the space between his knees, so she can sit on the couch and wield her paddle in comfort. He looks good like this, real good. Ass pointing her way, arms restrained, face pressed against the table.

She spins the paddle in her hand, reacquainting herself with its weight. It’s not big. It’s not much more than a glorified ping pong bat, but it makes the most delicious noise when it meets its target. He’s still got his sweatpants on and she pats his ass lightly, once, twice, on each cheek, just warming him up, getting a feel. He sighs into the swats, eyes closed. She pats him again, gentle, easy, and builds up the intensity, keeping her pace the same. _One, two, one two_ , over and over. She isn’t punishing though. Not yet. Just gentle, teasing. She watches for Leo's reaction, aware of her own. Her heart beats faster, her clit pulses, her nipples harden. When she finally pauses she can feel just how wet she is. She reaches out, hooks Leo's sweatpants with her fingers, and eases them down. She takes her time, teasing herself as much as Leo, as the swell of his ass, perfectly round with the most subtle blush of pink, is slowly revealed. She strokes the skin, so tender, so taut, and considers kissing him. She smacks him with the paddle instead, hard. He yelps and jumps and another bloom of heat warms Maria’s cunt.

She works him over harder now, keeping the same pace as before. _One, two, one two_. The slap of leather against skin fills the room, so satisfying, so erotic. Leo's moans get louder and louder, less controlled. A sheen of sweat coats his skin. He whimpers and catches his breath but his eyes--tightly closed--remain tear free. She’ll just have to hit him harder.

She smacks him twice, hard, _one, two_ , then stops. “Colour for me, Leo.”

“Green.” He says it like it’s his favourite word in the world and she smacks him again.

She relaxes into the spanking, keeping the rhythm easily. She smiles as Leo's ass gets pinker and pinker. He’s groaning now, twitching. The rope holds him. His muscles bulge. His hands flex, tight fists, knuckles white. His toes curl. Yes, not long to go before the water works start. Then the real fun begins.

He’s just started making the most delightful choking cries when one word pierces the haze of her excitement.

“Yellow,” Leo croaks.

Maria stops immediately. She’s on the floor, by his side, hand on his shoulder. “Talk to me, babe.”

“Shoulder,” he says, and wiggles the best he can. “Hurts.”

“I’ll untie you.”

He nods the best he can with his face pressed against the table. That he’s not protesting, not telling her he just needs a minute, tells Maria he’s more than just uncomfortable.

She unties him as fast as she can, fingers freeing the knots and pulling the rope through and away. It pools around them, coils of green hemp like seaweed. She eases his arms to his side, running her hands over the indentations, then helps him up. Her chest presses against his back and she wraps her arms around him. “You okay?” she asks.

He nods and rolls his shoulder, pushing her away. “It’s that old injury.”

Maria is hit by a twinge of annoyance. Not at Leo, not really.

Leo sighs. Maria catches the note of frustration. “Was in the zone,” he says.

“Me too.”

“Can we get it back?”

“Of course. I haven’t made you cry yet. Come on.”

She stands, holding her hand out for Leo. He tugs at his sweatpants--they’re still around his legs--and stumbles to standing. He shrugs out of them and together they gather the rope and paddle and lube and walk and in hand to the bedroom.

“How’s your cock?” she asks. The usual tan has darkened, accentuating the bright silver of the ring.

“Hard.” Leo smirks. She checks anyway, giving it a twist. She’ll take it off soon, but he’ll be okay for a while longer. His shoulder is her bigger concern. She makes a note to get some ibuprofen later.

Maria pulls the duvet right off the bed and tells Leo to kneel. He can brace is good arm against the headboard to give his sore shoulder a break. Maria climbs on the bed, kissing Leo's neck and shoulders, palming his ass softly, gently. He shivers. Then she picks up where she left off.

There’s a meditation to the motion, her whole body taking part in the swing and smack. Arm lifting, torso twisting, arm lowering, wrist turning, _smack_. Before long, Leo is groaning, gasping, on the edge of pleasure and pain. She pushes him towards pain, towards that sweet release of incoherent babbling. He’s almost there, she can feel it in the way his body tenses between blows, the way his knuckles go white as he clenches and releases his grip on the headboard, the way his muscles bunch. She speeds up, faster, faster, so his gasping blurs and catches and then--

The burst of hot tears.

Heat flows through her, pride and arousal and satisfaction. She doesn’t stop. Not yet. She smacks him through his crying jag and when she finally stops, he’s shaking and babbling. She puts the paddle down and shuffles further around his side, squirting lube on her palm. She can cup his ass with her left hand, and stroke his cock with her right. And that’s exactly what she does, pulling long and slow on his cock. Precome mingles with lube and Leo whimpers, high pitched, and a fresh flood of tears stream down his cheeks.

“Do you want to come, Leo?”

He nods. “Y-yes.” His cock throbs in her hand.

She hums. “Not yet.” She lets go and slaps his ass. She smiles as he groans. His pain is her pleasure, after all. She massages his ass and thighs, kisses his neck, nibbles his earlobe, and wipes away his tears, taking just enough time to let his cock calm down. Then she wraps him in her hand again and builds him up, up up, only to deny him again. And again. He’s crying constantly now, and from the way his shivers, like he’s cold, she knows he’s gone, floated away, and found that freedom he’d needed from the moment he’d walked in the door this evening. Calm descends over Maria, too, relief that she’s gotten him here, given him what he needs. Almost what he needs. An orgasm would nice, after all this.

So that’s what she does. She kisses his cheek, licks the salt of his tears off her lips, and tells him he can come now, he’s done so well, he can come. “Whenever you want, babe.” It’s not instant. She continues to stroke his cock with one hand and stroke his back with the other, cooing to him, telling him he can come, telling him he can come back now.

And he comes with a long, monotone groan. Ejaculate shoots onto the pillow and Maria loosens her grip, slows down, and only lets go once she’s jerked all the come out of him. Leo’s body goes slack, and she helps him back, easing him down, peeling his fingers off of the head board. He kneels, relaxed, eyes still closed. The tears have slowed.

“Hey babe,” she says. “You good?”

Leo nods. She massages his shoulders, digging her thumbs into his neck, and once the rigidity of his cock has softened, she eases the ring up and off. He goes to move, but she still him. “You want me to rub balm onto your skin first?”

A small nod.

The balm is on the bedside table, next to a box of tissues and a bottle of water. Maria rubs the balm on her fingers first, letting it warm up. The sleepy scent of lavender floats through the air as she caresses Leo's ass, soothing his pink, stinging skin. The muscle is firm, toned. Her fingers slip between his crack. She’d like to go further, to pull his cheeks apart and circle his asshole, but not now. Not this time.

“Lay back now, Leo. Relax.” She manages to pull the come-y pillow out the way before he turns and lays down, his eyes still closed. She shakes the duvet over him, settling it on the bed like morning mist hugging the earth. He’ll be all right for a moment while Maria gets ibuprofen.

She helps him drink, gives him one pill, then another. His cheeks are all blotchy from the tears, so she dabs him with a warm flannel, wiping his eyes, cheeks, chin. He smiles. He’s still far away. Not for the first time she wonders where he’s gone, wishes she could be there with him, but as appealing as the destination is, Maria is not interested in sharing Leo's particular journey.

“Love you,” he mumbles.

Maria smiles and strokes Leo's hair. “Love you too, Leo.”

Once she is satisfied that Leo is comfortable--he’s drifted off to sleep already--Maria washes the cock ring and puts the rope, paddle, and ring away. Only then does she take care of herself. In the bathroom, her bra goes in the wash basket. Her knickers follow, sticking to her pussy as she pulls them down. She has a short, hot shower, fingers between her legs, rubbing her clit. Her own orgasm floods her with heat, inflamed from the shower.

Dried off, she slips into bed, naked, and curls herself around Leo, wrapping him up in her arms. She can’t protect him from everyone, nor would either of them want her to. But when Leo needs her, she’ll be there for him. He just has to ask.


End file.
